Ghost Town
by Dropkicking Bullet Shells
Summary: Rick wasn't sure why they did it. Four strangers couldn't share a house, that much was common sense. Somehow though, they made it work. Rick/Daryl AU
1. Chapter 1

**A/N-** Same characters, no zombies. AU.  
This story was inspired by the song **Anna Sun** by **Walk the Moon**. It might not be hard to imagine how I got from there to here, but if it is, just know my brain is everywhere and nowhere all at once. It's a little crazy... I'm a little crazy. *shrug* You get used to it.  
And, no. I'm not picturing Hershal's house so stop thinking I am right now before you even start!

**Plot-** He wasn't sure why they did it. Four strangers couldn't share a house. That was common sense. Somehow though, they made it work. Rick/Daryl AU

**Disclaimer-** I do not own **The Walking Dead**, only the occasional OC that may or may not show up

**Warning-** Heavy drinking, partying, drugs, noncon/dubcon, adult themes of a sexual nature, intense violence, coarse language, etc.

**Pairings-** Rick/Daryl

XxxX

"I do not regret the folly of my youth, but the timidity"  
_Mason Cooley_

XxxX

**Ghost Town-**

Rick was not exactly sure how it had all ended, but he did remember how it all began.

It started with a house. A mansion, of sorts. It sat alone on a large plot of land, standing tall and basking in its solitude.

Time had not been kind to it. Years of storms and a troublesome past etched gravely in its old, wooden bones and termites had taken quite the liking to it. Its corpse was hardly holding together. Maybe it had been the few unprofessionally done patch jobs or the well built design or perhaps just plain dumb luck, but its skeleton was stuck firmly like glue.

The paint job was old enough to drink. The porch couldn't stand the weight of more than four grown men and a box of illegal fireworks. Remains of windows were scattered hazardously around in grass too tall and too dead to do anything with. Cracks and nooks just big enough for small animals and large bugs to fit could be found in all of the wrong areas. The front door was hanging off its hinges, dancing and creaking in the wind, screen peeling off and exposing it naked.

There was a small, useless barn a hundred paces south. It was empty and judging by the scorch marks and stale smell of rust it never had been used to house animals.

Those two buildings were alone. Vast fields of nothing stretched for almost a mile in every and all directions. Nothing but desert sand and forlorn cactus painted the horizon. Occasionally there would be a few boulders but, nothing more than that.

Arizona was always hot. Even in the winter.

The house boded better in the constant dry heat than it would have in the various weather changes most other states offered, though. But, it suffered through some of the worst, because when it did rain in that terrible desert, it poured.

Rain and sand and dirt and mud and wind all blended together with thunder and lightening to make a wall of energy that bled through the houses' walls and soaked it to the bone. When the storms calmed their rage it left everything in ruins and the house exhausted.

The house -the mansion- was not salvageable.

Rick had found the death trap on Craigslist. It was listed under _'home and plot for sale' _and it looked better in the pictures. Ten acres for $125,000 seemed like a dream come true when Rick had read the add, but now it qualified as more of a mirage.

The original owner was an old, worn down man. His beard hung low and the pasty, white skin around his eyes drooped with wrinkles. There was always a pipe between his dry lips, smoke always drifting off him like a chimney and a strong smell of urine and dogs wafting around him consistently.

Old man Mason is what everyone had called him.

He seemed more appropriate for the house than Rick.

When Rick had gotten him on the phone the night he had seen the add, he was told he had to make a decision fast. He was told that three other people were looking to buy it already.

Rick met Old man Mason on his lot early the next morning, his fingers itching to put his signature on a deed. That was the day he met the other guys.

Shane Walsh was Rick's age. He was just hitting the sour side of twenty but he had a strict goal of dying from alcohol poisoning or some bike stunt gone wrong before he hit thirty-five. He had left his parent's home a few years back in hopes of looking for a place to squat while his musical career took off. The man could play a mean bass solo, but without any other band members, there wasn't much hope.

Glenn Yeun was the youngest. He was on his second year of college and working hard towards a degree in business. It was hard to imagine the kid sitting behind a desk and pencil pushing. He had lived by the Pacific Coast most of his life and had abandoned the rainy states to get away from his over controlling parents and switched up his luxury life style for college textbooks and a Pizza Hut apron.

And then, there was Daryl Dixon. Daryl was from Alabama and had brought with him a sweet southern accent that thickened when he was angry. He was only a few months over the drinking age and Rick could tell by his latent smell of whiskey that he liked to take advantage of that on a regular basis. He didn't own anything other than a Triumph, a backpack and a change of clothes. A true traveler.

Rick's first impression of the three men were sickeningly different than the second.

He first thought Shane was ridiculous. The man kept laughing at jokes unspoken and he had such a mischievous air about him that Rick thought him childish.

Glenn seemed too innocent and too young to live on his own. The way he ghosted around the property when Old man Mason let them in proved as much. He kept peering into rooms and staring at walls as if they were scolding him.

Daryl was a hostile. A dangerous animal that prowled around the house and peered out the empty window sockets and glared at everyone else as if they were the enemy, as if sizing up a kill.

Old man Mason saw none of this. All he seemed to see were potential buyers. Not a fool. Not a child. Not a criminal.

Rick was convinced they were all insane. He kept to himself and cursed Old man Mason's 'I'm only in town for one day so I'm going to let all four of you tour at the same time' speech under his breath.

There were six bedrooms and one bathroom to inspect and Rick was planning on taking his time.

The whole house smelled of dust. It was empty and neglected and felt bigger than it probably was. The floors were nice, though. Wooden and shined and underneath the carpet of dirt it was probably mostly unscathed.

The stairs weren't in good shape. When Rick stepped on them they croaked and shifted under his weight.

They held up Daryl, though. The man had pushed past him to tread up to the second story. Rick followed after him but refused to say a word on the matter. He didn't want to look like a cry baby in front of such an intimidating man. Rick found it funny, looking back at that first day, ever finding Daryl to be intimidating.

The upstairs was just as vacant and just as old. It came as no surprise to find the four rooms up there to be devoid of everything but stains. Everything smelled thickly of musk and Rick bitterly expected the scent to follow him out even after he left the property. It would take a while to air it out.

Daryl didn't seem to notice it. Not a twitch of his nose or a odd sniff could be noticed and if Rick didn't know better he would have thought the man emotionless.

Rick headed into one of the bigger rooms and eyed it. The walls were rather clean, or at least when compared to other parts of the house, and the closet to the right of the door was well set. The view was no different from any other spot in the house.

Rick walked over to the window and pushed it open, having to force its corroded hinges a little when it jammed. There was no air conditioning in the house, not that Rick really expected there to be any, but that meant the dry, warm air that hit him was the same temperature as it was inside.

The sun was high past the horizon. Like a light bulb, it stood out harshly against the faded blue sky and Rick accidently glanced at it and for a bit he could see a black dot following his vision. It disappeared after a few seconds.

There was a spider web housing a large, brown spider on the corner of the sill. It didn't seem pleased by Rick's presence, but it kept spinning its webs and twitching it's cruel, little legs.

"Tha's a wolf spider." It had been the first words Rick had ever heard Daryl speak. His voice was rough, like sand paper and soft, like the pads on a kitten's paws.

"Are they poisonous?" Rick turned his head just enough to watch Daryl approach the window.

"Only tha ones in South America." Daryl reached out and let his fingers rip through the web gently, provoking the spider to reel into a smaller position. The man waited, patiently, for the bug to unwind itself and timidly reach out to board Daryl's hand. It crawled up onto Daryl's palm and cringed and shrank again when the man moved.

"You're not going to eat it, are you?" Rick joked. He was sort of serious.

Daryl shot him a disbelieving glare and an unamused snort, turning on his heels with the agility of a feline, "I'm goin' a let it outside."

Rick watched the burly man stride out of the room and down the stairs. His footsteps were completely silent, even on the creaky floorboards that supported them. It was a curious thing. Daryl's practiced, mesmerizing grace.

Glenn was in the kitchen when Rick ventured to look at it. The kid was getting in close to the sink and analyzing it. Maybe he was just checking out the quality but it kind of looked like he was playing good cop, bad cop in an interrogation room.

The sink was rusty and out of date just like the rest of the appliances. Everything was useless and needed to be replaced within the year. Rick didn't really have money for that.

When Glenn turned the handle the pipes moaned and obliged them with a mirky spray of swamp water. Fumbling and sputtering, the kid panicked and shut it off again. It was almost amusing.

"S-sorry!" He had stumbled out to no one in particular.

"So'kay." Rick brushed up next to the kid and peered over the counter to watch the drain drink up the filthy sludge. "Everything's out of date, I'm not surprised the water is from the Egyptian times, too."

Glenn held back a laugh and it morphed into an awkward snort for his trouble, "You think the dinosaurs bathed in this stuff?"

Rick shot the kid a smile and a little huff of laughter, "Probably."

"Fuck, what's that smell?" Shane's voice was just behind them. It had a daunting quality to it that most people hoped to find in police officers. Maybe he and Glenn could tag team and get the sink to confess.

"Swamp water." Glenn revealed, fiddling with the nozzle.

"Where the hell did you get swamp water?" Rick could tell Shane liked to swear a lot, and though he wasn't much of a fan of it himself he wasn't about to contradict the bigger, more muscular man.

"The water from the sink is rotten."

"Water can't rot." Shane said.

Glenn shook his head good naturedly, "Have you _smelled _this water?"

Shane reached over and gave the handle a violent turn. It gave him the same response. A creak, a moan and a spray of poisonous gunk. The man found it far more amusing than anyone had the right to.

Rick left the two other men to their new toy and moved on to the oven. It was stained with grease and the burnt dirt at the bottom had to be older than him.

The fridge and freezer double pack wasn't fairing too well, either. It was old. Falling apart, crusty around the edges old. The model had to be around the same age as a middle schooler and the lettuce molding on the door had to have been there for quite some time. Only, it wasn't lettuce. It was a tomato.

A bucket of acid and all of the bleach in the world couldn't clean this kitchen.

"Do you boys want to come check out the basement?" Old man Mason had a voice that reminded Rick of a rocking chair. One of the ones that his grandmother used to sit on all day, creaking back and forth, watching the horizon vigorously from her porch.

Glenn was the first to react, jumping onto the balls of his feet and spinning around with all of the grace of a bowling ball. He tripped over his own legs and barely caught himself in time to keep his face off the ground. He had the reaction time of a startled deer, but the coordination of an infant. A clutsy mix.

Rick and Shane shared a look of amusement and Shane gave a silent cackle at Glenn's turned back. Rick shoved the bigger man playfully and scolded him with a roll of his eyes.

Glenn didn't notice, too preoccupied with keeping his balance and saving his dignity at the same time. A trivial pursuit, really.

They traveled as a herd over to the basement stairs. The door was hanging open in an eerie fashion, the white paint flaking off and deep gouges from who knows what scrapped over around the bottom half. Rick tried not to think about the possibilities.

The stairs were water logged and the cement flooring was molding. Pipes were joined in a labyrinth around the low hanging ceiling and the walls were colored an unnaturally natural orange. The basement had to be something out of a horror or torture film.

"Here is the electricity panel." Old man Mason flipped open the ancient box on the wall and motioned to the switches, "These do everything you need them to do." It was a rather vague explanation but Old man Mason thought it sufficed so he slammed the panels closed again and cut off the light buzzing noise.

"Is that thing safe?" Glenn asked when he got a closer peek.

"Probably not." the old man laughed, "But it's worked for me for the last seventy years so as long as you don't do anything stupid it should do the job for at least another six or seven months."

"How much is it to replace that thing with something more modern?" Shane was looking around the room but whenever his eyes would pass the panel they would linger.

"Well," Old man Mason shifted his weight and put a bony hand on his shriveled hip, "A new one goes for a couple hundred, but you'd have to have a professional put it in, so I'd estimate a couple grand."

"That's bullshit." Shane huffed.

"That is pretty nasty." Glenn muttered his agreement.

Rick gave a biting look but didn't say anything.

"Well, the prices of this generation are steep." Old man Mason stroked at his beard thoughtfully. "You want to tour anything else?"

"I've seen enough." Shane sighed.

"I'm good." Glenn shrugged.

"No." Rick pierced his lips.

"I'll take it." They all said at once.

Old man Mason raised a hairy brow and stared at them in shock, "Well here's a predicament."

"Hey, old man!" Daryl called from upstairs, "Hand over tha keys. I'll take it!"

That's how the four of them had ended up at the nearest bar, bickering over the house. Old man Mason didn't want a word in on the matter. He had dismissed them when they asked him to pick and he had waved them off, telling them to talk about it over a cold beer. The beer in Arizona was never cold enough and frozen just wouldn't do.

This was where Rick had had his second impressions of the boys.

They had started to form when they were heading to the bar from the house. Rick had walked outside and got a good look at the vehicles his competition drove.

Rick assumed Shane came from a ridiculously wealthy family. Someone from a poor or even a moderately middle class housing couldn't afford something like the Dodge Ram Shane drove. It was kind of ironic to see the suburban kid trying to buy this garbage instead of moving back in with his parents. It certainly raised the question of what, exactly, was Shane running from.

Daryl's Thunderbird 500 just backed up Rick's original thoughts. The way it roared to life and rippled its muscles was the closest to predatory Rick had ever seen in a machine. Daryl was a monster and his belongings seemed to come alive around him.

Glenn didn't have a car. He didn't have a truck. He didn't even have a bicycle. He had taken the bus as close as he could and walked the rest of the way to the house. If he couldn't even afford transportation what sort of delusion was he under that made him believe he could even contemplate the idea of owning a home.

Glenn had asked him for a ride. Seeing as Rick's old Chevy Chevette was the least intimidating he wasn't all that surprised.

In the car everything was awkwardly silent. Glenn kept fingering the torn material at the edge of his seat and from the corner of Rick's vision he could tell Glenn kept glancing at him. Rick tried his best to seem friendly. He relaxed his posture, kept his hands low and gentle on the steering wheel and a kind expression on his face.

It was hard to keep thinking healthy, happy thoughts when there was nothing to distract him from the stress of the economy. The roads were bare and void of anything living. The stereo in his car was broken and striking up a conversation with the strange kid seemed oddly out of the question.

Glenn hadn't seen it that way. He had opened his mouth as soon as the crushing silence was too much to bare. Rick thought him weak for a few minutes after that. "We could share it."

Rick cast a quick look over to the small, thin man, "Who could share what?"

"All of us." Glenn ran a hand through his course, black hair and down his neck. "All four of us could share the house."

"What are you talking about, kid?" Rick had reserved the right to call Glenn 'kid'. He was, at the very least five years younger than him and half as experienced.

"It's so simple!" Glenn turned to face Rick as best he could. His neck was strained against his properly buckled seatbelt. It was almost laughable because Rick never wore a seatbelt. "If we all had solid jobs and we all put money in we could pay the mortgage no problem! A thousand dollars a month split four ways? That's like $250 each!"

Rick eyed Glenn skeptically and briefly wondered if he really knew what he was suggesting.

Glenn must have read the undermining look on Rick's face because he stuttered and stumbled and gave his next approach. "Look, from what I can tell, you must have a rather respectable job, right?"

Rick chewed on his lower lip, "I just got fired a few days ago."

"Well, then-" Glenn stopped and blinked, "Wait, what? You just lost your job? Than what the hell are you doing looking for a house!"

Rick actually did laugh that time, though it was more of a small, soft scoff because he had just recently thought something like that about the kid.

"Look, that's even more of a reason-"

"Do you say 'look' at the beginning of ever sentence?"

"What? No." Glenn gave him an exasperated whine, "Just look."

Rick smiled.

"That's even more of a reason to share a house! If you're having a bad week and can't scrap the money together we could cover for you! If you fall behind we'll pick you up, if you need some extra cash, your friends have got your back and if someone else is in trouble than you can return the favor! How awesome would it be to have a family like that!"

Rick stopped smiling and looked over at the kid. Shouldn't he know how awesome that would be? Rick didn't know. He had no clue what it was like to help and be helped back with no judgment.

Glenn kept on going, "I know I can't afford to fix that place up by myself and I don't think you or the other two guys would fair any better! I think it's fate that we all met today!"

Rick didn't bother telling Glenn how stupid the thought of 'fate' was. He didn't want to start an argument he no longer had the energy to finish. Plus, maybe if the kid really didn't understand things like how a good family could be, he deserved to at least be able to guess on how fate turned the world.

"Don't you think the other two guys are scary?" Rick tried not to let a condescending tone show into his voice.

"Never judge a book by its cover." Glenn told him. "Some of the most amazing people I have ever met I only have in my life because I didn't judge them on the way they looked and acted the first time I met them."

Rick turned back to watch the road, though there wasn't much of a point to concentrating hard on the street since no one else traveled this far from town but, he didn't want to keep staring at Glenn's determined face.

He didn't talk again. Mostly because Glenn had dropped the subject and stopped talking too.

His plan had worked, though. He had planted the seed in Rick's mind.

When they were all sitting at the bar Rick's impressions on the guys had shifted again.

Shane had ordered a beer. Rick couldn't remember what kind, but it had been something odd. He loosened up as soon as the alcohol touched his lips. As if relieved, his muscles calmed and the tense wrinkles on his forehand softened and disappeared all together. His whole personality turned up a notch. His childish antics became more defined which wasn't all too surprising, but he had the nerve and the indecency to hang off those around him the more he drank.

Daryl, who's face was twisted with a challenging menace, ordered a rather appropriate glass of Southern comfort. He sipped at it uncouthly when people got too close, but when everyone was at an agreeable distance he would down glasses like he was competing and breathe easy.

A Coke was enough for Glenn. He was under the drinking age at the time but didn't mind flaunting his non-alcoholic beverage. He wore his sobriety on his sleeve and enjoyed the misplaced feeling of superiority.

Rick thought him ridiculous and even basked in his own superiority because he could legally drink and the kid could not.

They all sat together at a small circular table in the middle of the bar. It was chipped by past violence and rowdy bar patrons. It was smooth, though. The thick layer of what felt like glaze had protected it from most of its hardships and water damage. The chairs were nice too. Straight back, oak brown wood that was sturdy and strong for its age.

The bar was miserable. It was hot and an underlying scent of body odor lingered. The beer was warm. The design was tacky, a few little cowboy based knick knacks hung from the ceiling and a few picture frames decorated still photos of the local rodeo and had balanced on shelves or were nailed to walls. There was a tasteless, bright orange jukebox was sitting in the corner of the room jamming on an old country song. The song wasn't all that bad. The singer had a nice, gruff voice and the instruments in the back weren't too loud.

The bar wasn't very full. Other than the three or four couples, the only thing the four boys had to look at were more tables and more chairs and each other.

"I think I should get the house." Rick had said when he first sat down.

"What?" Shane gasped incredulously. The look on his face reminded Rick of a low budget television drama. "Fuck that! I think I should get the house!"

"I'm sure a princess like you can afford better." Daryl growled, "If ya can afford a pompous ass Dodge than I'm sure ya can afford a nice apartment."

"Princess?"

"Yeah. A princess." Daryl downed his glass and gave himself a refill from the bottle he had asked the bartender to leave, "I bet yer daddy bought tha' fer you fer yer sixteenth birthday."

Shane's bitter silence was enough of an answer for Daryl.

"Yeah. I thought just as much." the gruff man scowled, "Why don't you jus' go home and live back in yer suburbs."

"Why don't you go back and live in your trailer park!" Shane shot back, seething.

Daryl slammed his glass down. The ice tapped against the side quietly, but the sudden, unexpected tension swallowed up every other sound, leaving it alone to occupy the room.

"Hey!" Rick demanded, "Let's stop with the personal blows, here. We don't know anything about each other."

Daryl and Shane gave each other one last dirty look and both turned on Rick. They watched him expectedly, as if hoping he would pull some marvelous idea out of his ass.

Glenn shot him a similar, more desperate look.

Rick wasn't sure what to do. Desperate times had called for desperate measures. "We could all share the house."

"That's fuckin' ridiculous!" Shane and Daryl had said at the same time. Despite all of the differences about those two men that Rick could list years later, they really were too alike for their own good.

Glenn deflated a little.

"Look," Rick sighed. He laughed about that later. "I'm not sure about you guys, but I certainly can't pay to fix up that house by myself. With the shit pay check I get I could barely pay the monthly mortgage, but if we all lived there and paid the mortgage together it would only be $250 a month each. With the spare money we could fix that place up. It's got enough space for all of us, plus extra."

Daryl and Shane both looked at him like he had lost it, but Glenn's eyes glittered hopefully.

Rick leaned in and chewed toughly at his lip when he realized he had all three of their gazes bearing down on him. He tried to remember as much as he could from Glenn's earlier speech. "If one of us can't pay we can help them out. It could be so easy! Together we could fix that house up and make it our perfect dream house."

Daryl scoffed and Shane laughed until he realized Rick wasn't joking.

"We could get new appliances for the kitchen and a new electricity panel in no time. Alone, that would take any of us months, if not years to pay for." Rick ignored the others and kept with his case. "We could buy a heater-"

"And a TV!" Glenn piped up.

"And an air conditioner." Shane added thoughtfully.

"We could even tear down that decrepit old house and build a new one eventually." Rick smiled, "Or just fix it up. That could really be a choice we could make because we _would _have the money for it."

Everyone stopped and looked at each other. Some with excitement, some with dread.

"Why should we even think about doing this?" Shane finally spoke up, his tone serious.

"Well," Rick swirled his drink around in his glass slowly, "if you're like me, then what choice do you have?"

Shane and Glenn and even Daryl stopped to rearrange their thoughts. It wasn't long after that until they all excepted.

Rick had eventually remembered to give Glenn the credit he deserved for the idea. He really did deserve it because even years later he had been the glue that had stuck them all together. From the start to the end.

Later, after they had all been together for some time, Daryl admitted that he hadn't planned on actually going to the bar. He didn't care much for the house, certainly not enough to argue about it.

When they were leaving, Rick saw a Help Wanted poster over by the bar and thought _'why the hell not'_.

Later that week, when deeds were signed and deals were made, the four of them stood in front of their house and looked up at its historic walls.

Rick stood between Shane and Glenn. He felt an unusual wave of pride when he looked up at his home. He could tell the other two felt something similar because their faces were aglow with smirks and smiles of excitement and eagerness.

Daryl, though, stood off to the side. His boots dug little holes in the dirt and traumatized a few of the ants undertow. He didn't look joyous or inspired or influenced or even agitated by the strange twist of fate. His face was a little grim and a little nervous but he radiated a clashing mix of determination and doubt.

"What a shit hole." Shane had laughed to his right.

Glenn barked with laughter and reached down, picking up a stick and tossing it at their house. Its bony form shattered feebly against the houses' walls. "What have we got ourselves into?"

"This thing is an accident and a bankruptcy waiting to happen!" Shane added.

"It's a rat's nest, a haunted house, a ghost town!" Glenn smirked over Rick to share a look with Shane.

Rick smiled up at the sky, "Yeah. But, it's ours."

XxxX

**A/N-** By the time I have finished writing this chapter I am SO sick of that song. Holy shit. Ahk.

I'm really truly excited to find out where this goes with you guys! I really hope you enjoyed reading the first chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!

I want to thank **Writerchick0214** really quick!~ You were a great insperation and I hope this was worth the wait!

Please review if ya can, you guys!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N-** "What do you know? This house is falling apart. What can I say? This house is falling apart. We got no money but we got ha-heart. We're gonna rattle this ghost town-" HOLY SHIT GET OUT OF MY HEAD. Any one else find themselves humming this nonesence or is it just me *sigh*

Thank you, thank you, thank you to **MinuteCloser2Failing**, **crazyjayjay**,** Idril Isil Gilgalad**, **InkyBrown**, **writerchick0214**, **HazelAndNut**, **Guest**, **deelove1**, **xXThe perfect soldierXx**, **Dreaming Ani**, **Silver Mirror**, and **LisaBoston**!~ Your reviews made my day, made me smile and the only thing I can do to thank you is an update! Here is chapter two! Thank you so much!~

XxxX

"Money gives me more energy than all the granola bars in the world."  
_Mason Cooley_

XxxX

**Ghost Town-**

It had been Glenn's blood curdling scream that had woken everyone up on their first day sleeping in the house.

The whole house woke with a start. Shane had burst out of his room and tripped half way down the stairs as Daryl hopped over the railing and over Shane's head in his pursuit to get to the bottom level. Rick had just barely stumbled out of his room, rubbing his eyelids and yawning, when the other two touched down.

It was too early. The sun was barely lighting up the darkened hallway as it, too just poked its heavy head over the horizon to see what was up. It was probably only six in the morning.

Rick tripped on the last step in his half asleep daze. He cursed under his breath when he stubbed his pinky toe up against a floor board protruding out from the bottom stair.

Glenn was in the bathroom and he had been hyperventilating and panicking into Daryl's chest like a child and pointing and fingering out the shower curtain.

Daryl didn't seem pleased by the rude awakening or the fact that a stranger had his head buried in his chest and his fingers twirled tight in his shirt.

It had been this first morning with everybody that woke Rick up to the realization that everyone, even these three simple minded men, had layers.

Deep down, Shane wanted to be the hero. The way he stepped over to the shower curtain Glenn was cowering away from spoke much for that. He held himself high and smirked cockily at Glenn and pulled back the curtain and screamed. "Oh my God, holy fucking Jesus Christ, God damnit!"

Shane threw himself back and away and brushed himself off as if there was some invisible net holding him down. He ran his fingers through his hair and shuddered.

Rick eyed Shane because nothing that could be behind that curtain could be scary enough to scare two grown men. He trudged over to the bathtub and pulled back the curtain and felt his skin crawl. He turned away and backed up quickly.

Within days of moving in with the Shane, Glenn and Daryl, Rick discovered that the boys were all scared of something.

Shane hated clowns. Shane had called it hate when he had admitted to it, but during the carnival the year following, Rick had discovered the thin line between fear and anger. Shane had discovered it too and the end result had been rather amusing.

Glenn's fear was more obvious and not only harder to hide, but it was easier to admit.

"That is a huge fucking spider!" Shane was still running his hands over his body. He, and Rick and Glenn had that feeling creepy crawlers gave when they or their webs were too close. There wasn't really anything on them, but the twitching and tickling skin didn't stop even with the knowledge.

"I'll go get something to kill it with." Rick huffed and he stepped around Shane and over Daryl and Glenn on the floor.

"Don't kill it." Daryl hissed, "I'll take care of it."

"What are you going to do? Keep it as a pet?" Rick watched as Daryl pried Glenn off of him and stood up. Rick never could figure out how he ended up in a knot on the ground with the smaller man, but he figured Glenn had pounced on him as soon as Daryl had appeared in the bathroom doorway. "It looks poisonous. Nothing harmless can have that much fur."

Daryl walked to the bathtub and Shane shot away from it in the most masculine way possible. "C'mon, you pussies." Daryl rolled his eyes, "Tarantulas aren't even deadly in the states."

"T-t-t-t-tarantula!" Glenn stuttered and scrambled up against the wall and down the hall, "Don't get it near me!"

Daryl kneeled by the tub and stood up after a few seconds with the bowl sized arachnid in tow.

"Are you going to make a habit of carrying around spiders, Daryl?" Rick questioned and shrugged at the dangerous glare shot his way.

Everyone was supposed to be afraid of something, but Daryl was the only exception. He wasn't afraid of clowns or spiders or anything at all. He was tough son of a bitch that could take on the world with a glare and his bike. It wasn't until quite a while later that Rick had discovered how wrong he really was.

"Doesn't that thing like, hurt?" Shane asked as he watched Daryl pass by. He flinched a little when Daryl turned to him and the tarantula got too close for his likings.

"It's got little hooks at the end of each of its legs, but as long as yer careful not to provoke it, yer safe." Daryl lifted one of its back legs slowly and let Shane get a close look, but when the spider twitched a bit in irritation Shane leapt back and Daryl went on his way.

Glenn nearly hyperventilated when Daryl passed him and he curled into himself and cowered when the big insect was within ten feet.

They spent the rest of the morning painfully awake. The boys just weren't ready to go back to sleep after such a bad start.

Glenn had bought a coffee maker off his old dorm mate from his freshman year. It was a pretty old model, but it looked like alien technology when set up in their kitchen with all of their other rusty antiques.

They didn't have any coffee beans. Shane had called that blasphemy and stormed off in a bitch fit.

Surprisingly, it had been Daryl that had suggested grocery shopping. It took them half an hour of arguing on who would go and they ended up deciding that all of them would.

It had been a rather interesting crack up of a sight, packing all four of the boys into Rick's shit car. It stalled a few times and the engine choked and gagged on its own fumes and the looks Shane and Daryl shot him were both terrifying and funny.

Rick felt so terribly nervous when his car finally sputtered alive and pulled them ever so reluctantly out to follow the long drive way.

Glenn was up in the front seat, and that helped a little. Rick liked Glenn. He seemed easy to talk to and the least scary. Or really, not scary at all. Rick wasn't sure how he was able to get in the shotgun seat while his competition consisted of a redneck and a jock, but the two scrunched up in the back didn't look all that happy about it.

"Thanks for taking care of that spider, Daryl." Glenn had said once they were on the road. "I'm not very fond of spiders."

Daryl grunted, "It was a tarantula."

Glenn flinched, "Yeah. Got that."

"Oh my God!" Shane screamed, "There's one on you now, Glenn!"

Glenn made an odd sound with his gasp that sounded like a high pitch whimper and a retched sound in the back of his throat. He reached back and smacked the back of his neck and the top of his head and just about every other part of his body and didn't stop until Shane's obnoxious laughter filled the car.

"You are," Shane giggled, "so gullible and so ridiculous."

Glenn swirled his head back as soon as he was sure he, and everything around him was free of any eight legged beasts. There were tears in his eyes and a pout on his lips and he tried desperately to conceal them both. "That was mean!"

"You're such a baby!" Shane's smirk was kind of fake. Rick could tell he felt a tiny bit bad, even without taking his eyes off the road, "Man up!"

"That was mean, Shane." Rick told him, "You should apologize."

"What? Do I look like a girl to you!" Shane threw his hands up in the air in a defensive shrug, as if he were being attacked. "Apologizing is for sissies."

"It's fine." Glenn sniffed and wiped his eyes. He tried to pretend as if he didn't almost just have a breakdown. He cleared his throat and straightened his back and nodded a thank you to Rick.

Surely enough, Shane didn't apologize. Rick never actually heard Shane truly say he was sorry more than a dozen times in all of the years they spent with each other. The man's remorseful words became a rare, genuine tool he only ever had to use when it was desperately needed. When Shane said he was sorry, he really, honestly was.

The boys' first trip to the grocery store had been a memorable experience.

They had just pulled into the parking lot when it started to rain. Large plops of water were plowing down on the dusty asphalt and the air had smelled of earth and of mud and of dirty, filthy wetness. The scent was strong.

"I kinda like the smell of rain in Arizona." Glenn smiled. He had cheered up in the last few minutes of the car ride and had pulled out his trademark innocent excitement. "It's so different from the smell in the Pacific."

Shane shrugged and avoided eye contact. When ever he felt guilty he masked it with anger for a while.

"It hasn't rained in over a month." Rick commented as he looked up at the ominous, graying sky, "It should be a pretty rough storm."

"Think the house will be all right?" Glenn asked. A bit of worry leaked into his voice, "It looked like it's going to tip over any minute."

"Let's hope not." Shane grumbled.

"It'll be fine." Rick popped up onto the side walk and wheeled a cart out the long line of other, equally dull colored carts. The boys all walked in together. The air conditioning was nice.

Rick and Glenn took the front. Rick pushing and Glenn keeping him company. Shane dwindled around in the middle and just stuck to watching the two up front pick and choose their food while he got out of his funk. Daryl led up the back. He stalked silently and eyed everything narrowly. Occasionally he would grunt at something like he was contemplating its existence, but he didn't actually voice any of his concerns.

The cart was half way filled with canned food and frozen dinners and packaged fruit when Shane finally got over his temporary guilty driven depression. It was while they were by the deli meat that he came to life again.

"Can we get come lunch meat? Like for sandwiches and shit?" Shane pointed at the glass window like a hopeful kid at a petting zoo.

"Sure." Rick nodded, "What were you thinking?"

"Honey baked ham and some turkey breast?" Shane suggested with a shrug.

"Some fresh provolone would be nice, too." Glenn added sheepishly.

Rick nodded and before turning to the deli worker he faced Daryl, "Do you have a preferance?"

Daryl shook his head and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Alright," Rick returned to the waiting employee and placed their orders. The deli man handed them their packages of frensh cold cuts one by one after he weighed them and stuck on the price tag.

They didn't get far until they stopped again. At the bakery, Glenn found a container with free samples and he handed out the little pastries to each one of the boys.

Shane shoved his in his mouth without looking at it. To him, food was food.

Rick waited to see Shane's reaction before he tasted his. When Shane gave a pleased murmur he gave the sweet little cake a sniff and plopped it in his mouth. It was a new brand of lemon pound cake. It was alright.

Glenn ate his quickly and when he went to reach for another Rick shot him a look that stopped him in his tracks, a silly look on Glenn's face.

Daryl eyed it sourly and only ate it after Glenn nodded to him encouragingly.

They moved on after picking up a few loaves of bread and a bag of mini bagels that Shane had insisted on.

The junk food aisle was too full of temptations and Rick had aimed to skip it all together, but Glenn and Shane had lead him eagerly into the mouth of gluttonous incitement.

Shane and Glenn and eventually, even Rick had picked out their favorite kind of chips and for some, dips. When Rick turned to ask Daryl about his preferred, the redneck was gone.

"Where'd Daryl go?"

Shane and Glenn peeked over in the wake of his question and shared curious looks.

They found him in the baking needs section. Between the rubber spatulas and the pans there was a row of cheap microwaves. Daryl was scrutinizing each brand one at a time. It was a wonder that the boxes didn't get nervous under the man's piercing stare. Lucky they were inanimate objects.

"Whatchya doing?" Glenn smiled as he slid over to Daryl's side and watched the shelves do nothing.

"Need a microwave." Daryl rumbled in his powerful voice. He didn't really need to say anything more.

The house didn't have a microwave. They need one. Simple as that.

"Any ones worth buying here?" Glenn smiled. Glenn had been the only one to talk so willingly to Daryl for the first few days. Shane had obviously been threatened at first and Rick was worried he would say something wrong or out of place and the man would explode like a box of fireworks. Glenn didn't seem scared. He seemed to like Daryl. He seemed to like everyone.

Daryl's eye flickered down to Glenn from the corner of his eyes for just a split second and then went back to taunting the boxes. After a few moments, he reached out and fingered out one microwave in particular.

Glenn reached out and pulled it off the shelf and read over the front in his head like he understood the nonsense. He really didn't. "This looks good!" Glenn praised, "It's a nice pick!"

Daryl itched behind his ear.

Glenn bent down and dropped the box on the bottom of the cart, "What next?"

"Coffee beans." Shane announced to them all and he led them like sheep to the right aisle.

Rick had found himself a bit stunned when all four of them reached for the exact same kind of beans. So did the others, it seemed, but they all handled their shock in their own way.

Glenn tossed a couple of packages into the cart with a grin and whispered over to Rick, "I told you us together was fate."

"Because of coffee beans?" Rick asked back.

With a laugh that told Rick Glenn thought he knew more than him, the smaller man whirled around and practically skipped off.

It was when the cart was full that things started to go wrong. It wasn't 'just hitting the top' full, though. It was 'stack things up and hope they don't tumble' full and Rick truly was hoping they wouldn't tumble because if he caused a mess he only had unenthusiastic old Daryl to help him out. Shane and Glenn had disappeared to God knows where.

Rick was in line for check out when he spotted them. They were playing a game. Or, at least they had to have been. There was no other explanation for their childish exploits.

They were sitting in a couple of carts, Shane using a long stick of French bread as a paddle and Glenn using the janitor's old wooden broom. They looked like a couple of idiots and had caused a bit of a crowd when their repugnant giggling drew attention.

Rick was tempted to call over for their attention, but he didn't want the people in town to know he had relations with them. It was a small town. Everyone knew everyone and Rick didn't want everyone to know he lived with a couple of unsophisticated fools.

"Mwahaha!" Shane cackled like an evil scientist, "Catch me is you can, sucka!" He reached out to grab a counter so he could rocket himself away from Glenn. He ran into a few of the potted flowers.

"You can run," Glenn played along as he tried to beat Shane with the head of his broom. Shane was just out of reach, "but you can't hide!"

Rick saw the manager shoot them the stink eye from across the room. "Can you please go get those two before we're kicked out?"

Daryl nodded and, without argument, trudged over to his house mates. For a second, Daryl reminded Rick of an army sergeant marching over to criticized the privates ranked under him. Rick had pondered if Daryl grew up in a military family. It certainly would have explained a lot.

Later, Rick found out that one of his boys _had _grown up with an officer and a veteran for a father. But, it wasn't the redneck.

Rick was called up to the counter by the clerk and he pushed his cart up and unloaded what groceries would fit on the small, black conveyer belt. He ignored the man behind the register and the consistent beep of the scanner in favor of observing how Daryl planned to handle the situation.

At second glance, Daryl reminded Rick of a mama bear, the way his face scrunched up in a scolding look and he, quite literally, dragged Shane and Glenn out of their toys by the ear and lectured them feverishly.

It had been the most Rick had heard Daryl speak since he met him.

"I can not believe ya!" Daryl hissed as he dragged the two boys, bent at the hips as he held them waist level by the ears still, back to Rick. "In tha middle of a fuckin' store yer gonna act like a bunch of kids. You two should be a' fuckin' ashamed. I swear ta God. I don' even know yer fuckin' asses and I'm already fuckin' embarrassed ta be around ya." He gave one last quick tug and then freed Shane and Glenn from his grip. "Behave yer fuckin' selves or I swear I'll make ya regret it when we get home."

Shane and Glenn rubbed at their reddened ears and sulked like kids a third their age. Like they had been refused candy or scolded by their mother.

Rick tried so hard not to laugh, he really did, but it didn't work out. Shane and Glenn shot him petty glares as he just smirked, "Amen to that."

With the damaged caused by Shane and Glenn and the soiled French bread stick thrown into their original pile, the total for their groceries came up to almost three hundred.

"Shit." Rick hissed, "So, what's the plan on payment?" He was sure he had a bit in his savings if it came close, but Rick had been hoping it wouldn't come to that.

"I'll cover this round and you guys'll cover the next few." Daryl pulled out his wallet and slid a card through the slot. He typed in his pin and pressed the proper buttons to accept the charges before anyone could protest.

"You didn't have to, Daryl." Rick smiled, "We could have helped."

Maybe it was embarrassment or maybe he was returning back into his shell, but Daryl didn't bother speaking again. He returned to his mostly mute state again. Rick felt oddly disappointed. He liked when Daryl spoke.

They moved out to the car together as a pack. Glenn and Shane were a bit weary of Daryl, but in more of a respectful manner than a fearful one.

It had stopped raining while they were in the store, much to the groups disbelief. The clouds cleared too, and the scalding hot sun had soaked up most of the puddles and left everything almost bone dry all over again.

It took a while and the whole hatch space and more to load up the groceries. A few of the bags had to sit in the back on Daryl and Shane's lap so that everything would fit.

Rick was careful in choosing things like ice and the jug of milk to sit on Shane's lap. It was a bit of a tease and everyone knew it. Shane's whole crotch had gone numb on the drive home.

When they got home they worked fast as a team and mulled the few dozen bags into the kitchen and unloaded them.

"Are you guys sure the freezer is cold enough to keep the frozen stuff frozen?" Glenn had asked after he made room for Hot Pockets between the chicken nuggets and the tub of ice cream. Only the healthiest for Rick and the boys.

Daryl stepped over to the freezer and silently checked out the built in thermometer's status. "I'll take a look at it once we finish unloading this shit."

"Should the cereal go in the pantry or in a cupboard?" Shane asked, "I always kept mine in my pantry when I lived with my family back home, but a few of my friends had them up in the cupboard. It sounds pretty stupid, but what are your guys' preferences?"

Those were the types of questions they dealt with for the next hour while they set up their kitchen. Once everything was put away Rick took order and gave Shane and Glenn chores. They had to get the house clean eventually and the first few days were as good as any. Rick was sure Daryl could put himself to work.

Glenn took the easy jobs. He was small and not too knowledgeable with electronics so he kept to tidying. He found an old, wide broom stored off in a pantry and swept everywhere. There were no carpets in the house, so everywhere really meant as much.

Shane set to work on the pipes. It didn't take him long to get healthy water coursing through the house and hot water soon followed. He bellowed a quick warning up from the basement to turn and keep off the electricity while he updated their panel as best he could. He had brought with him a large set of expensive tools when he came from who knows where and shared them with anyone who needed them.

Daryl certainly put them to use. He got down on his back and fixed up any of the salvageable appliances he could. That wasn't very many of them, but it defiantly postponed the inevitable day they would have to be replaced.

Rick worked outside mostly. Like the others, he had found his lightest clothing and set to work in the insufferable dry heat. He cleaned up the yard and made it look presentable. He checked up with a friend who lived an hour away who was giving away a bunch of wood and headed over to pick it up.

While he was gone, Glenn had done something with the electricity. Maybe he hadn't heard Shane's warning, or perhaps he forgot, but the end result was the same. Shane was zapped with enough electricity to leave his hair sticking up in an odd afro for a few days after that.

After a good laugh that that sight supplied, Rick got back to work on patching up their house's body. It took the rest of the day, but when he went back inside, dirty and sweaty, the kitchen looked good, the halls and the stairs and the upstairs looked good and the lights were burning bright. Even the stale smell had been smothered quite a bit.

The floors sparkled, the fridge and freezer and oven were spotless and everything was in working order. Rick had been so impressed.

The boys were still dirty, even though the shower was in working order and they had bought everything they would need to get scrubbed and clean.

It was as if all of the accumulated filth had been lifted off the house had absorbed into the tired, raunchy men that sat together against the kitchen's empty wall.

They had clearly earned the cold beer in their hands. And the can of Sprite in Glenn's.

Rick dropped down next to them with a grunt and basked in their achievement. The house looked good.

"It looks nice in here." Rick said. He accepted the beer Shane handed to him.

Rick was worn down too. He felt like his muscles had been torn and pulled and yanked tense. He needed to sleep.

What was left of the natural light died as they sat there. It was peaceful for a while. Smelly, but peaceful.

The kitchen lights kept the darkness at bay.

Glenn was covered in dust. Even the bandanna that was tying his hair back was licked with grime.

Daryl looked beat from a heavy day of heavy lifting. He looked in his elimant, though. His well worn clothes keeping him comfortable. Stained, ripped up jeans and a sleeveless T.

Shane tugged ruefully at his dingy wife beater and then had just tugged it off all together.

They sat a while longer in the line. A few more beers were opened.

Finally, Shane spoke up. "I call the first shower."

Everyone growled at him.

Shane and Daryl disappeared the next day and reappeared only as the sun was going down with a big truck of furniture. They had called it a home warming present.

Glenn had nearly passed out when the excitement was too much for him. It only got worse when, while he was lifting out the dining room table, a spider greeted him from underneath. The poor kid wouldn't go near anything new after that until one of the other boys thoroughly checked it first.

All of the furniture matched. Even the four beds for the four rooms upstairs.

The dining table was a beautiful antique wooden beast with a set of six matching chairs. It fit ever so snuggly right in the room it was made for. And really, the trip had left Shane and Daryl very broke for a while. They kept saying it was worth it, though.

Daryl's pride and joy, though, was a large, round marble fire pit. He made it a spot in the back yard with its four sturdy, metal chairs. He spent so many night out by that pit, staring off at the sky, watching the stares, thinking.

The boys spent most of the night out there, with a case of beer, their first night their house was truly complete.

XxxX

**A/N-** And this is only the beginning...

Did I google tarantulas? *twitch* Yes. I did.

Did you know, in Africa, some tarantulas get big enough to munch on lizards, birds, snakes and suddenly I'm very very itchy. *twitch*

I just updated Dollface last night, I'm now on chapter 11, and I finished Forbidden Fruit over the weekend. I'm feeling rather accomplished.

I thought of two new AUs I really really want to get into soon. The smart part of me is telling me to wait until I've at least finsihed Dollface and the eager part of me just wants to jump right into them.

One is a firefighter AU. Rick and Shane are both in love with Daryl, a fellow firefighter, and they have to try and learn to keep their personal lives and work seperate in the middle of a blazing fire. I want to call it Burn or Blaze or something like that.

The other it going to be called Better Angels. I'm still working out the plot, but it came to me while I was watching a movie called Domino and I really just want to put use to the quote 'There are three types of people in the world. The rich. The poor. And everyone in between.' I was thinking something like Rick plays this rich business man who hire a bodyguard OR has a hit put on his head and either way, a poor kid off the street gets heavily invovled. Daryl, said kid, would either play his body guard of the assassin after his bounty. *shrug*


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N-** My parents left for the week to go camping and left me and one of my sisters home alone and not three hours later I crashed the ATV and ran over my leg. Twice... Welp, I'm fine, walking around and only sporting a burn from the tires and a few dozen scratches where a blackberry bush cushioned my fall, but da-yum... It's funny now, a funny story to tell.. it was actually funny like 20 seconds after I got back on my feet. The ATV's fine, though. *sigh*

Special thanks goes out to **Downey, TheColdFlame**, **KagXmi**, **MinuteCloser2Failing**, **crazyjayjay**, **velvetemr73**, **writerchick0214**, **Riku-Aura777**, **kaszz-chan**, **Silver Mirror**, **HisGodGivenSolace**, **justme**, **Idril Isil Gilgalad**, **Dreaming Ani**, **RejectedShyRebel18**, **Liza**, **Guest**, **Guest, Guest**,** Guest **and **Guest**! You guys absolutely rock! Thank you so, so much for this support! You guys have no idea how much it means to me! (I think I'm missing someone, but I checked half a dozen times and i can't find out whooo! Tell me if you don't see your name!)

So, I have a reason for taking so long. I wrote out this chapter and while I was editing decided you guys deserved better.. I ended up deleting it all and rewriting it! I hope this is better!

XxxX

"One may treat a gentleman rudely, but beware of being rude to a scoundrel."  
_Unknown_

XxxX

**Ghost Town-**

Shane had been the one to suggest a house warming party that next morning. Surprise, surprise. Rick had learned early to never listen to Shane's suggestions. He also learned quickly that his boys were all prone to their own set of pet peeves.

Shane really hated it when people were cheerful in the early hours. Speaking above a certain level before the coffee was made and settling comfortingly in his belly was an absolute taboo. Rick discovered this when Glenn, the morning person that he was, had been eager to address his housemates with his usual chirpy attitude one morning and had wound up with itching powder in his shoes, his shirt, his jeans, his underwear and his bed sheets by the time the sun set again. Rick had taken that for the warning that it was and veered his way away from loud noises, and Glenn had accepted his lesson and developed his own little pet peeve towards the use of itching powder.

Glenn also hated when the floors were wet when he was wearing socks, and Rick could totally understand that, totally get with that, but he had never quite seen such an over reaction as unexpected, and amusing, as the one he found himself observing a few days prier. His front row tickets, seeing as he had been the last to take a shower and had left his puddles where they lay, were more of a burden on his attempts to enjoy the show. Rick had developed his own littler distaste for being interrupted when Glenn would have none of his excuses and had merely hushed him when he tried to supply a few.

Daryl didn't have pet peeves, he had rules. Very few, very concrete rules. He didn't like people touching his stuff. His direct quote was something along the lines of "don't touch ma fuckin' shit." and it had been spat out in that slick accent of his the morning after they had gotten their furniture and he finally actually owned something. The other three were fine with following that rule, seeing as he only really inforced that one demand and he was very scary.

There were quite a few reasons why Rick wasn't exactly driving hard for Shane's party idea and Daryl's rule was high up there. It's not like party goers were exactly humble and well mannered when it came to respecting a hosts things and Rick damn well knew it was far more likely that a group of strangers would have an orgy on Daryl's bed than respect that that wouldn't fly with him. And it was even more likely that someone would end up dead or worse in the wake of the southerner's wrath. Rick was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to pay for repairs and medical bills.

Shane had been rather insistent, even taking to pouting deeply throughout the morning when Rick had been wayward on the idea of a party. It was not that Shane's puppy dog eyes would help, seeing as Rick had found the face about as charming as a rotting zombie carcase, but he really hadn't done anything to bond with his new friends yet and he figured he had to start somewhere. He regretted that this was where he chose to place his starters mark later on.

He had told Shane he had to get Daryl and Glenn's go ahead before he started planning anything and he assumed that would have been where the idea would have shriveled and died because there should have been no chance in hell that Daryl would give his consent willingly, but he had been shocked, and not for the first or last time, when Daryl had acted completely out of character and said it was cool with him as long as his "shit wasn't touched".

Shane had returned to him gleefully. Rick later pondered why Shane had went to him for permission first and, when he came up short and without a fitting answer, let it drop it the back of his mind.

Then, seeing as Glenn, predictably, was completely, and immediately, psyched about it, they got to planning. Daryl wasn't interested in helping and instead muttered something about going to work early and left with the roar of his bike's engine as company.

Daryl worked as a landscaper, but seeing as they all lived, not only in the middle of fucking nowhere, but also in a barren wasteland of a desert, the pay was rather unreliable and the redneck had taken to doing odd jobs around town as well. Rick never really asked about it, not at first.

Glenn had started his second year of college just a week before and Shane had turned an evil set of eyes on that, especially when Rick had, quite bluntly, told them that they were all new to the area and had no friends, family or even relatively interesting coworkers that they could invite. Shane had called Rick a fuckface and turned to Glenn to offer him an answer to their problems.

"We should invite the kids from you school!" Shane had gasped, slamming his fist against the table as the idea hit him. "College girls are kinky!"

Glenn perked up, just minutely too eager to help Shane, "Yeah! I know a handful of people who I could invite!"

"No," Shane stroked at his stubble and eyed the edge of the wall that met ceiling in front of him, "you're a total nerd and your nerd friends are not what we're looking for."

Glenn deflated and Rick felt a little bad about not standing up for him. He hid his internal confusion behind a sip of his coffee and the crinkle of the newspaper fanned out before him. They had subscribed to the print a week after they had moved in when Rick had admitted that he had picked up the habit of reading the news as he was waking up in the morning from his father and Daryl, as sure-fire as could be expected, informed them that newspapers made good kindling.

"I'm not a nerd." was Glenn's quiet, bitter response.

Shane had told dozens of stories since they had met just under a month ago. He had told them all about his legendary adventures through high school and the eighteen weeks of college he had gone through before dropping out and his harrowing tales of his sky rocketing popularity. Rick had a feeling that a rather home sick Shane had been the one hiding behind a smirk and a cocky laugh.

"Glenn, what are you majoring in?" Shane's tone had been matter-of fact, like he knew everything. Even Rick, who had only been listening to the conversation lightly, wanted to choke him out. He wasn't surprised that Glenn had that look on his face.

"I'm majoring in business and Advanced Calculus." Glenn scowled in the way that only he could, in the way that made him look like he was pouting.

"And how often do you study?"

"Well, I do all my homework and then study when I have the time."

"And how many friends do you have?"

Glenn blinked and then swallowed, his eyes widening a bit and his eyebrows furrowing hopefully, "Well, you guys are my friends, aren't you?" When Glenn glanced at Rick, Rick turned his gaze back to his paper, suddenly interested in the article about rising gas prices.

"You," Shane smirked, his lips twitching in a wolf like manner. Rick had expected him to say something like 'the better to eat you with, my dear'. "are a nerd."

Rick's boys were smart in very different ways. Shane was good with people, he could adapt quickly to any social situation and be the life of a party in a matter of minutes. Glenn was book smart, he shared the skill of being strategically skilled like Rick, but was far more superior in his school work than Shane, and sometimes Rick, liked to admit. That didn't stop Shane from teasing him about it.

Glenn's lips were pulled thin and the kid sighed and kept quiet.

Daryl was smart in a way Rick hadn't really seen or understood before. Daryl could not only survive, but thrive on his own. He was good with money, with endurance and that 'natural selection' bullshit, and surprisingly, Rick later found out that Daryl actually was pretty good with social situations. He adapted, like Shane, but he blended in and said all the right things at all the right times, like he had been taught his place or had been people watching from the background for many, many years; learning. Rick hadn't thought much of it at the time.

"Maybe I could head over to the college today." Shane suggested, elbowing Glenn in that 'wink wink, nudge nudge' fashion. "I bet I could get a good crowd over here this weekend."

"I doubt it." Glenn sighed, placing his heavy head on his lazy arm. He had an expression on his face, like he didn't quite believe Shane's stories or he really didn't have faith in Shane's 'greatness'. "The kids at my college are pretty snooty."

"You want to make a bet?"

That was how that next Saturday became known as 'that one time Shane got Glenn to shave his head'. Rick still doesn't know how the big man did it, he hadn't gone to the college that morning to witness Shane's strategic plan and every time he had asked Glenn about it, the poor boy huffed and changed the subject. Rick liked to think Shane broke out into songs from Grease and the whole campus joined him because, hey, the idea was amusing.

"Do I really have to go through with this?" Glenn wiggled awkwardly in his chair, the loose bolts whimpering a little. "I mean, I have an odd shaped head and I'm sure I can make it up to you some other way and-"

"A deal's a deal." Shane chortled. He ignored the desperate pleas in Glenn's tone because that's what friends are for. "Shave this fucker, Daryl!" It was hard to hear the electric buzz over the pounding of the music and the cat calls and the thundering noise of hundreds of people partaking in conversation.

Daryl seemed way too comfortable doing his job. He had one hand curled around the electric shaver and his free hand gripping Glenn's shoulder, holding him in place. If Rick wasn't mistaken, that had been a small smirk on his lips.

"C'mon, you guys." Rick was leaning against the door frame of the bathroom, acting as a bouncer for the few interested strangers that kept peering in, drunk or stoned out of their minds and curious about the noise. "Can't you let him off just this once?"

"Hell no!" Shane flashed his coy teeth in his trademark smirk, "I can't let the kid get away with making a bet, you guys would think I was getting soft! A deal's a deal, Glenn," he repeated, "take it like a man."

Rick wasn't sure if Glenn had sobbed or tried to laugh it off as the razor met his head in a smooth, curved arch and locks of his hair met the bathtub's floor silently. It only took a few of Daryl's quick and easy movements before his whole head of hair was carpeting the tub's porcelain outline.

They had sat Glenn's chair in the tub for easy clean up and they really hadn't expected the whole thing to turn into some sort of pandemic of 'my turn!' and 'who's next?' because it hadn't been long before the people off watching outside the bathroom had joined in, sitting in the seat of honor and being cheered on as Daryl took off the weight from their heads.

Rick could have named a hundred people, mostly woman, that would regret that night when they sobered up the next morning. And when it was Shane's turn to go 'me next!', well Rick was surprised. Glenn was too.

"You didn't loose the bet, though!" Glenn protested. He looked odd. His head was shaped with canyons and crevices that his hair had hidden well, that made him look rather alien.

"It looks fun!" Shane laughed, "Plus it's hot as balls in this fucking state! It's killing me!"

Glenn opened his mouth and then a thought hit him and he stilled, "You know, it it rather breezy."

Shane was in the chair and that was all the go ahead Daryl needed. The southerner clicked on his hand held and worked to bare Shane's scalp, his elbowing cocking out at extreme angles as he worked at Shane's head like he was painting a beautiful picture. It wasn't the same moves he had used to sweep off all the other kids. He jumped out of the tub without finishing and bolted out of the bathroom with his little battery powered toy in tow.

"What the fuck, man!" Shane reached back and felt the bald spot at the back of his head precariously. He turned around desperately like he had dropped something or was missing something and Rick tried not to choke on his air.

That was a disturbingly accurate penis.

"What the fuck is so funny!" Apparently Glenn hadn't been able to hold in his cackling back as well as Rick and he had just let out his full, belly deep laughter with heavy breaths. Shane rushed forward and tripped over the bath matt as he struggled to get to the mirror. He found it difficult to look at the back of his head and the mirror at the same time. "What did that fucking hick do!"

"Uh," Glenn liked his lips and bit his tongue and tried not to laugh again, "you want to borrow my hat?" Rick wondered about that hat sometimes. It was a baseball cap that the kid carried with him whenever he left the house. He didn't have it on him at that moment. Maybe it had been in his room.

"I'm gonna kill him!" Shane pushed past sweaty bodies and through the crowd like he was on a mission. Rick believed if he had found Daryl shit would have gone down, but Shane spent the rest of the night storming through the house and being laughed at. He wasn't successful in his search.

Rick started drinking after that because why the hell not. He didn't get wasted, not when he had considered himself the designated babysitter of the group. He watched Glenn converse with a group of kids that looked too smart to be pressured into such bad situations like the party. The kid looked much happier talking to them, and talking to Rick and the other boys than he had drinking or dancing or getting laid.

Rick kept an eye on Shane who was still pissed, and rightfully so. He had taken to questioning strangers and throttling the few who dared mock him. Someone must have told him what exactly was 'so funny' at some point.

The party ended late and it left the house sighing with relief as the last group of drunks filtered out. Rick could feel the contentment flow through the house and as everything had winded down. The whole thing had come and gone so fast. Rick hardly remembered it. He remembered the aftermath, though. The garbage and the chaos left behind like a moody hurricane. He remembered finding Daryl.

He was up on the roof.

"How'dya find me." Daryl had his eyes closed, his back splayed over the tiles and his arms pillowing the back of his head. He knew who it was who had found him without looking and that sort of startled Rick. It had impressed him even more. Rick was sure he had made a sound when he had crawled out to join Daryl through his bedroom window. There was no way Daryl could recognize him from the rhythm of his heart beat of the sway of his steps. He wasn't some movie class ninja.

"I heard you come up here the other night when you should have been sleeping." Rick told him, "The walls are paper thin."

"You should have been sleepin' too." Daryl told him. Rick noticed the sketch pad beside the man's head and the pencil that lay at just the right angle so it wouldn't teeter and clamber down the slanted roofing. He didn't say anything about either right away.

"Guilty." Rick dropped down beside him and watched Daryl sit up and collect his things, placing them in his lap. They sat in silence for awhile. Arizona was quiet at night. Quiet and warm. Rick could smell rain on the horizon.

"What are ya doin' here?"

"Everyone went home." Rick smiled, "I thought you could use some company."

"I figured the house was empty." Daryl murmured, "The music stopped a while ago."

"You want to come downstairs?"

"Is Shane still lookin' fer me?"

"Yeah." Rick admitted.

"Than no."

Rick chuckled a bit, eyeing the electric shaver that sat a few feet away, by the chimney. "He thinks you work black magic now. He thinks you disappeared or something. He has no idea where you went."

"Let's keep it tha' way."

"What's with the sketch pad?" Rick finally asked.

Daryl looked over to Rick and their eyes met for what felt like the first time that night. He turned to watch his papers again like he thought they were going to jump out of his grip and do the hula. The book was very worn down and Rick could tell it was well used. Over half of it had had to have been filled at that point.

"I dunno." Daryl shrugged, his shoulders slow and heavy, "Jus' saw it and I was bored."

"Liar." Rick reached out to grab it and his hand was pushed away. He laughed and flinched a bit at the dark look on Daryl's face. "Can I see something you drew?"

"No." There was no room for argument in that statement so Rick drew back. He dropped to lay down and eyed the sky instead, giving Daryl the room he needed to lighten up again.

Rick liked living far from the city. Without all the smog and the bright, lucid lights of too many people in too little space Rick could see the stars. They weren't hiding, not this far out in the middle of nowhere.

"Do you ever look up and the sky and wonder what's out there?" Rick heard himself say. He felt kind of stupid and Daryl's response only made it worse.

"Since when was this some scene in The Lion King?" Daryl rolled his eyes.

Rick laughed after awhile, a quick huff of air and a smile that he showed to Daryl to prove he was going to be a good sport about the mocking comment. He stood up and shrugged, "I'm going to head inside."

"A'right."

"You going to come in soon?"

"Probably."

Rick moved over to his bedroom's window and maneuvered himself to squat so he could drop inside easily. "I'll see you in the morning, Daryl." But, Daryl had already been laying with his eyes resting closed again. If Rick didn't know better, he would have thought him asleep.

The next morning, Rick discovered that a Shane with a hangover wasn't pleasant, but that hadn't been a surprise. Glenn had been sober and Rick hadn't had enough to drink that he suffered anything the morning after, so they were free to mock Shane and torture him a little.

Shane found the electric shaver in his underwear drawer upstairs mid way through the day and promised to beat the ever living daylights out of Daryl when he found him. Daryl hadn't made another appearance for three or four days after that, letting Shane simmer down. Rick was pretty sure he had camped out on the roof the whole time, but he hadn't mentioned that to Shane.

Glenn's hair grew back fast, and by Thanksgiving he has his old look back. Shane kept his short. He had liked the breeze.

XxxX

**A/N-** So, some chapters may be long and significant, some may be short and sweet as you'll start finding out from here on out! I think I'm going to just pick a topic for each chapter and write it out, for example, the first three topics I had chosen for the first three chapters had been 'they get they house', 'they clean it up', and 'they throw a housewarming party'. It's kinda like Rick is telling the stories... I don't know.. :)

I played L4D2 all week with my best friend and I'm feeling rather nastalgic for good Nellis... I may just write a little NickXEllis fic?

In other news I started both Burn and High Brow. Burn being the firefighter AU and High Brow being my Shane/Daryl AU story I wanted to attempt.. They're both posted!

Okay! So, I'd love to read your reviews! I loved reading them last chapter and I think I've read them all at least four times! They make me all giddy and inspired :D


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N-** Sorry it's taken so long! I started this story thinking it would be something I just worked on whenever I had writer's block and I had no idea anyone would actually read it, much less enjoy it!

**Idril Isil Gilgalad**, **Firelizard46**, **MacDixon Love**, **RejectedShyRebel18**, **Peachy Moose**, **justme**, **Amanda**, **MinuteCloser2Failing**, **KagXmi**, **Silver Mirror**, **kaszz-chan**, **maria hueb**, **Guest**, **Downey**, **Guest**, and **Inky Brown** thank you so much for reading and putting up with my shitty scheduling! And spelling.. hmm... You guys are amazing! You have no idea how much you guys support me!

In other news.. I tried to kill a spider on my ceiling a bit ago... and it dropped onto me... and I flipped shit. Why is it everytime I'm writing this story some spider gets involved?! *Twitch*

XxxX

"No man is exempt from saying silly things; the mischief is to say them deliberately"  
_Michel de Montaigne_

XxxX

**Ghost Town-**

Rick started work at a bar two weeks before the boys went on their first official outing. It was a sweaty and miserable experience, working there, but when he got the job done he went home with enough tips to make it through the night and a shattered spirit.

It was good that he had a steady income. The holidays were making a scene on the horizon and Rick had yet to tell any of his house mates that his family had made plans to visit him for Thanksgiving. Chances were, he figured, that his boys would boot his ass out the minute they were formally introduced to his parents and siblings. He wouldn't have blamed them. Shane and Daryl hardly lingered on anything dubbed formal.

Rick tried to slip that beautiful little conversation starter into his everyday sentences, but it wasn't as if starting the day with 'hey, what a wonderful morning, I hope you're ready to meet the ones who raised me' would start things off nicely. On top of that, every time Rick brought up of family the boys turned fifty shades of awkward desperation and fixed to changing the topic.

It was early in November, the trees, nonexistent and the night air just as uncomfortable as ever, when Rick returned home from work to a mess. Glenn and Shane's sad attempts at practice runs for Thanksgiving were plastered on the walls of the kitchen and spread over the counters in heavy, soggy heaps. The two shared matching looks of shock and something almost impish when the front stove whistled and steamed puffs of angry black smoke.

The smell was something awful. Waves of burnt came on the air and defiled Rick's senses, bleeding through him. He gagged when he entered the house and tried to keep his superiority about him.

Shane looked up first, his face smeared with a multicolored cream, his war paint giving him a deranged quality to match his fresh-out-of-bed hair and wrinkled sweat pants. He grinned wide, happy teeth at Rick, like a cocky kid.

Glenn, who could have been mistaken for a ghost with the amount flour decorating him head to toe, had a more appropriate, more apologetic look on his face. His gaze met Rick's in a quick jump, turning point rapidly to avoid catching a proper glance at the look of resignation that settled on Rick's face.

Rick dropped his stuff on the counter tops, a couple of the groceries he'd picked up on the way home, and plopped down on one of the seats set crooked from the table. He frowned and waited impatiently for an explanation. Surprisingly, it didn't come from Shane or Glenn, but Daryl, who entered the kitchen with a half full bottle of beer and quirked twitch on his lips.

"Tha two of 'um 'cided ta get down and prepare fer tha holidays." Daryl shook his head slowly, "I let 'um. Didn't think anyone could do this bad a' job."

"C'mon!" Shane coughed around the smoke, looking for the credit he believed he deserved, "It's fine!" he took a sip off something set from the stove and choked. After a pause and the chance to clear his throat he pulled a face, "It's edible."

"I don't think-" Glenn was silenced by a quick hush from his fellow chef.

Daryl leaned against the doorway, careful to keep his boots out of the lake of vinegar pooling precariously off to his right. He perched himself there, eyeing Shane and Glenn and finally Rick with his trademark distrust. Rolling his shoulders slowly, Daryl huffed, "I ain't cleanin' this up."

"I just got off a long shift, I'm going to take a nap." Rick massaged the bridge of his nose and focused on not facing the state of the kitchen. "I want to hope this will be cleaned by the time I get up?"

Shane shrugged and Glenn deflated, "I have to do homework." Sifting through the remnants of what used to be a pie with a dirty fork, the kid tried to pull off a casual air.

"Work it out." Rick headed for the stairs, passing where Daryl had stood seconds ago before he had disappeared as usual. He was only half way up the steps when he heard a loud crash, a handful of clatters and a yelp. He rolled his eyes, climbed to the top and dropped onto his bed without bothering to change.

XxxX

**A/N-** I thought I owed you guys something since I haven't been around much, just to show you I still care about this story! I'm really sorry it's not much!

Again, some chapters will be stupidly short, others indepth and looong, but this story it something I'm using as a writer's block crunchers, it's something I can play with, something I can jot stuff down and see where it goes! I'm ad-libbing here, and obviously, not very well! Ahhah! See ya'll next time! ... and hopefully soon...


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